


NOT Babysitting

by GabzJones



Category: Torchwood, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Community: intoabar, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 08:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14712621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabzJones/pseuds/GabzJones
Summary: Yuri didn't know where he was or who these people were. He just knew that he wanted to go home and get away from all these old people.Written for the Intoabar challenge.





	NOT Babysitting

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually super difficult for me? I wasn't sure how to write this one, but eventually it started to flow. I'm glad I did this challenge, it was super interesting and a lot of fun. Hope you guys enjoy it, too!

“Rhys, I need your help with something.”

Yuri grumbled, his elbow against the table and his head resting against his hand as he looked out the window. It was raining. Again. Yuri had been all over the world, but he had never seen so much rain. It was almost as miserable as he was. Yuri still wasn’t sure how he’d found himself in this situation, glancing over at the woman sitting opposite him, talking on the phone to whoever this Rhys person was. Gwen, she said her name was. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t going to stay in this place long enough to learn people’s names. He had to get back home. He didn’t even want to think about how angry Yakov would be when he got back.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon. Love you,” Gwen smiled as she hung up her phone, placing it back in her pocket and resting her arms against the table between them, her attention back to the grumpy blond she had been put in charge of, “So, Rhys’ll be here in a few minutes and he’ll take care of you while I’m at work today.”

“I’m not a kid!” Yuri glared at the woman, gritting his teeth in frustration. Ever since he’d found himself in this place, he was being escorted around by adults who seemed to think he was six years old.

Gwen offered him a tight-lipped smile, one that definitely didn’t meet her eyes before looking down at the table in front of her, “Right, you said you were sixteen?”

Yuri grunted what could barely pass as an affirmation, his eyes back to staring out the window at the miserable Welsh weather. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten to this place, only that this woman had said something about a rift and that they had found him wherever it was meant to have been active. Whatever that meant. All he remembered was preparing to leave the rink after another long day of training, and suddenly being here.

Ever since he’d gotten to this place, he was surrounded by old people who wouldn’t leave him be. Scanning him with strange gadgets, taking him into secret underground bases; that part actually wasn’t so bad. Yuri didn’t hate it, it was kind of cool to see all those things straight out of a science fiction movie, but the adults all made the situation less entertaining. If there was one thing Yuri was never very good at, it was being told what to do and that was all he’d been exposed to since arriving in that place.

“Well, we’ll be working on figuring out how to get you home today, so just sit tight and I’m sure you’ll be back to doing whatever it is you usually do in no time.” The smile was more genuine this time, Gwen seeming to really want to make him feel better. It wasn’t helping.

“If you’re working on that, shouldn’t I be there?”

Gwen nodded hesitantly, averting her gaze, “Yes, well… Owen said he’d dissect you if he was left alone with you for more than five minutes, and Ianto hasn’t been so fond of you ever since you insulted his tea…”

“It was cold,” Yuri shrugged, not bothering to look away from the window.

“Yes, well Jack decided it was for the best that you stay away. For everyone’s sake.”

A silence fell between them, Yuri knowing there was no point in arguing. He wasn’t in control here and he hated it. At least back home, he could skate away his frustrations, but here he was simply stuck with these strangers who promised him safety, but he really had no reason to trust. Yuri simply had no other options.

As the bell of the café door chimed, Gwen stood up, her smile bright as she greeted the man who had just entered the room. Without a second thought, they were embracing, sharing a quick hug and kiss of greeting. Yuri sunk lower into his seat, the display of affection making him uncomfortable.

“Alright?” The man stepped slipped into the seat Gwen had just vacated, “I’m Rhys. I take it you’re the one I’m babysitting, then, eh?”

There was a tinge of humour to his voice, but Gwen simply cringed as Yuri looked up at him. If looks could kill, Rhys would’ve died several times over, “I’m not a kid!”

Rhys nodded hesitantly, “Right. Not babysitting, then. Just two guys… hanging out.”

Gwen was holding back her laughter, tapping Rhys on the shoulder, “Right, I’ll be off then. If you have any trouble, you just let me know.”

“No worries, love.” Rhys watched as Gwen left before returning his attention to the boy sitting across from him. Gwen hadn’t been very forthcoming with information about the boy she wanted him to babysit, so he really wasn’t sure what to expect, but a very temperamental looking teenager hadn’t been at the top of his list. He’d gotten used to Gwen’s job, of the strange creatures that she came across. To be presented with a regular, every day teen was unexpected, though a very welcome change. That’s what he thought at first, at least. He hadn’t actually spoken to this kid yet, and there had to be some catch to why Gwen was pushing the teen off on him, “So, Yuri was it? I hear you’re not from around here.”

Yuri looked up from the window, glancing over at the new person he was going to be stuck dealing with for the foreseeable future, “What gave it away?” He replied sarcastically.

Rhys didn’t seem to be phased by Yuri’s attitude, shifting in his seat, “Alright, have you eaten yet? We can get some food in you and then I can show you around Cardiff.”

Yuri really wasn’t interested in seeing this place. He just wanted to go back home, to see Potya and get some sleep. He hadn’t been able to get so much as a wink of sleep since he’d arrived in that place, a world of worries weighing on his mind. Sleep sounded wonderful, really. He couldn’t let himself, though. Yuri didn’t know who these people were. Even if they were being kind now, it could all be an act. He had to keep on his toes. After all, he was a gold medallist, who knew what kind of ransom could be requested for his safe return.

“Pirozhki,” Yuri spoke, looking up at him expectantly. If he was stuck here, they could at least give him his favourite food. Maybe it wouldn’t be as good as grandpa made, but it was better than nothing.

“Who’s that?” Rhys frowned, clearly confused and it only served to fuel the Russian boy’s frustration.

“Pirozhki. It’s like a bun. Stuffed with meat and vegetables,” Yuri shook his head, reaching for the menu sitting in the centre of the table and snatching it, “Nevermind…”

Yuri gave up on trying to feel some semblance of home in this unfamiliar place. He wasn’t going to find any Russian food, wasn’t going to find anyone he knew. Yuri just really wished he could figure out where he was and how far from home he’d ended up. After ordering their food, Yuri pulled his phone out of his pocket for the umpteenth time since he’d arrived, scrolling through his contacts. He could call Yakov. Or Grandpa. Or Viktor, or even Mila. He hovered over Otabek’s number, sighing sadly as he glanced at the top of the screen, seeing that he had no signal. It didn’t matter that he had their numbers, he couldn’t call them. Swearing under his breath, Yuri dropped his phone onto the table, leaning back in his seat, defeated by the small device laying discarded before him.

Rhys looked between Yuri and the phone, reaching into his pocket and holding out one of his own, “If you want to call someone, you can try mine?”

Looking up at the man who was now in charge of him, Yuri was sceptical, frowning as he looked at the phone he was being offered, “Why are you trying to help me?”

“Because my wife would kill me if I didn’t,” Rhys chuckled, though there seemed to be a layer of truth to his words. He placed the phone on the table beside Yuri’s, “Go ahead. If you can contact someone you know, it might make her job that much easier.”

Yuri stared at the phone for a long moment, hesitantly reaching out and taking it. It took him a few minutes to figure out how to use it, clearly different to the phone he was used to, but he got there eventually. Going through the numbers in his phone, Yuri decided the best person to call was Yakov. If nothing else, he could at least explain why he wasn’t around so that the old man wouldn’t yell at him. Carefully typing in the number, Yuri was hesitant as he held the phone to his ear, only to be met with disappointment.

_“The number you have dialled does not exist.”_

Yuri frowned, hanging up the phone and carefully typing in the number once more, only to be met with the same computerised message. Going through his phone, he tried as many numbers as he could, all receiving the same response. Gritting his teeth in frustration, Yuri slammed the phone down against the table more forcefully than he’d intended, sliding it towards Rhys, “Thanks anyway, old man.”

Silence filled the space between them as their food arrived. Yuri simply ate, not wanting to talk, not wanting to think. He was in an impossible situation and he just wanted to find a way out of it. The food wasn’t as good as it was back home. Everything felt different. The wrong kind of different. As he chewed on his food, he thought about how long it would take him to get back; if he would be out of practice for his next competition. Everything about this situation was wrong.

“So, what do you do for fun?” Rhys asked curiously, breaking the tense atmosphere that had sunk in around them.

Yuri didn’t bother looking up from his plate, stuffing another forkful of food into his mouth as he spoke, his cheeks reminiscent of one of Phichit’s hamsters, “Skate.”

It wasn’t a lie, either. Skating might’ve been his career, but it was more than that. Whenever he felt like his world was falling apart, he skated. Whenever he was happy, he skated. It was the place he went, the place that felt like home away from home, but he doubted the people here even knew what it was.

“Like rollerblading or ice skating?” Rhys tilted his head as he watched the young boy, noticing the way he froze, slowly meeting his gaze.

“Ice…skating,” Yuri swallowed his mouthful, “You have ice skating here?”

“Of course. There’s a rink not too far from here. It’s always cold in Wales, after all,” Rhys chuckled, “Tell you what, you finish your food, and I’ll take you there. You can blow off some steam.”

It was the first thing this place had offered him that felt like home, and Yuri didn’t care if their type of ice skating was completely different to his own, it was hope. Hope that he could cling to in this otherwise hopeless situation. He wasted no time, eating so quickly, he nearly choked on his food, gulping down the drink he’d ordered with it. Yuri hadn’t felt this excitement in all the time he’d been in this new place. It was all just worry, dread, but now he had the promise of ice, of knife shoes, of being able to truly express himself without feeling like a fool for telling people about his emotions. This was his chance to feel normal.

When they had finished their meal, Yuri was practically bouncing on his feet as he was escorted to the car, slipping into the passenger’s seat without complaint. For once, he wasn’t willing to complain, fearing that if he did, Rhys wouldn’t take him to the rink after all. He didn’t trust anyone he’d met in that place, but at least Rhys had asked him what he wanted to do. It was the first time someone here had actually wanted to know, had been willing to play by Yuri’s rules instead of forcing him to do what he was told.

As the engine turned on, the gentle movement soothing Yuri’s weary bones, he found himself looking out the car window as they went. Rhys was talking, though he really wasn’t paying much attention to what he was saying. It didn’t matter. None of this matter. Eventually, he’d be home, and all of this would be a bad dream. A terrible, horrific dream. But that’s all.

Sometime during the car ride, Rhys glanced over to see a grumpy blond teenager curled up like a kitten in the seat beside him, sound asleep.


End file.
